Friday, February 18, 2022

~ Poppies Paint the Hills ~


The trees, the flowers, the plants grow in silence. The stars, the sun, the moon move in silence. Silence gives us a new perspective. - Mother Teresa.

Poppies along Dry Creek Road.

In February, the spring rains are welcomed. The hills soak up the precious rain and the poppy seeds hidden beneath the shallow earth eagerly await the moisture. Some seeds might remain dormant for fifty years or more, waiting for the right conditions to bloom.

Three Rivers, where I live, is a hop-skip-and-jump to Dry Creek Road where I'm stopping at every turn to capture the color unfolding before me. I'm riding my Indian Springfield in solitude. 

There is little to no traffic on this country road. There are content cows feasting on the green grass. Dry Creek is actually flowing with a steady stream of water.

I love it. 

The silence is deafening. 

The poppies sway with the slightest breeze.

There are poppies near Lake Kaweah that I have never been seen before.
The recent snow in Sequoia National Park slowly releases water.

The view around every corner is memorizing.

Poppies and my Indian Springfield. A perfect time to reflect on the moment.

A lone California Poppy along Dry Creek Road.

Another biker riding Dry Creek Road.

The hills are alive with poppies.

Leaving Dry Creek Road is never easy.